


Summer Fling (better shape up)

by fairydustedtheory



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Human, M/M, Miscommunication, Oblivious Stiles Stilinski, Pining, Socially Awkward Derek Hale, Summer Fling, Very loosely based on the movie Grease
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-29
Updated: 2020-07-29
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:20:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25353889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fairydustedtheory/pseuds/fairydustedtheory
Summary: After spending an incredible summer filled with sex and romance, Stiles realizes that his summer fling actually attends the same college. Awkward, isn't it?
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 15
Kudos: 303
Collections: A Very Sterek Summer fest 2020





	Summer Fling (better shape up)

**Author's Note:**

> Written for A Very Sterek Summer 2020. Day 4, theme Summer Songs.  
> 
> 
> Find me on [tumblr](https://fairydustedtheory.tumblr.com/tagged/plot%20twist%20:%20i%20write)
> 
> Translated in Russian by negative_one [Summer Fling (better shape up)](https://ficbook.net/readfic/9886768)  
> I hope you enjoy!

Stiles paused in the doorway of the library, eyes scanning the room before landing on a figure sitting comfortably at a table in the middle.  
He actually froze because, no. Just _no._ In all the possible universes that just wasn't something that should have been happening right now. There was no way that Derek, his summer romance Derek was here in the library of his school. Because no, just a simple fact here, it was impossible.

Okay, he could admit that meeting in Santa Monica and then crossing path in Los Angeles area wasn't utterly worlds apart, but still, the city was huge, the campus was huge too. Plus, although Stiles wasn't clear on how many years separated them, he knew Derek was older than him. It just couldn't be. It just couldn't be his Derek. 

He had imagined Derek as an architect or something like that. A business man, an artist even, painter maybe, anything really but a student.   
And this Derek didn't feel quite right, sitting there. He felt off compared to the soft and smiling man Stiles had met on the beach. This one had to be an evil twin because Stiles had never seen such a deep scowl on such a lovely face before today.

Derek's head perked up automatically as some girl passed by him and that was then, finally, that their eyes met. Stiles smiled sending off a very casual nod in his direction. He was playing it cool. He wasn’t going to throw himself at Derek’s feet just because of the surprising reconvergence of their lives in what was, in all aspects, a small world.

He watched as Derek’s cheeks turned slightly more pink than before. Derek looked down to the book he was reading without even acknowledging Stiles' existence.

Well, _shit._

*-*-*

Stiles had just wanted to have his fun in the sun. Nothing more.

  
He grew up in California but in the forests in NorCal, not on the beaches. It had felt like a complete different country to be here in Santa Monica for the summer. The difference in people had also thrown him for a loop. It almost felt like culture shock, like that one time he went backpacking in Europe between Junior and Senior year.

Honestly, Stiles wasn’t even that innocent. The summer shouldn’t have been life changing. He had lived adventures already. He had no reason to feel as though he was still the little bird trying to fly off the nest for the first time. His dad would laugh if he heard him say that. His dad had never seen Stiles as a baby bird, not with all the pranks he pulled growing up.

Stiles had just decided to live his best life on the beach before going to college. He had made the decision all on his own. Just wanted to get out of town and start his own journey. He was ready.

  
He wasn’t going to complain about anything other than yeah, feeling kind of lonely sometimes.

About two weeks after he had moved into that tiny studio he had rented for the summer (that tiny thing cost an arm and had sucked the life out of his savings), Stiles met Derek, and _that_ had sucked all the loneliness out of him.

Derek was a wonderful god of beauty with sun kissed skin and bright green-brown eyes, amazing dark hair and scruff that Stiles wanted to feel on his skin for days. Derek also had that smile so charming and pretty that it made Stiles’ insides twist and curl into knots.

They had been staying in the same block of buildings, not neighbors exactly but enough to cross paths several times. Enough to be noticed as a recurring actor in the background of one's day. A small nod of recognition here and there and not much else for a while.  
Until it wasn’t just in the background after all. It was more on the forefront. Stiles wasn’t even sure what brought it on the day Derek offered to buy him a cup of coffee. Stiles wasn’t even sure how that coffee turned into the best make out session he had ever experienced. Stiles wasn’t exactly shy or prude but it was still the first time he went skinny dipping under the moonlight. The dark waters reflecting the bright colors from the Santa Monica pier. Derek looking like a top model starring in an artistic nude photo shoot.

That was an image burned into Stiles' brain forever.

  
All of it had been such a thrill and definitely a vacation Stiles would always remember.  
There was something about the sex of course. Stiles had no words to describe how fucking good the sex had been. What he could say though was that he didn’t regret spending all his money on his tiny studio. He didn’t regret not being home. This whole summer had probably been the best decision he had ever made. For the sex. But not just that.

It also had something to do with the fact that Derek was so kind to him and a gentleman in all circumstances. In bed he was always checking if Stiles was on board for any new thing (even if Stiles had assured him time and time again that yes fucking yes he was, he truly fucking was) and outside of the bedroom, he would just give Stiles so much affection. Stiles almost didn’t know what to do with himself. His hands had never been held so naturally, his cheeks kissed so softly. Derek opened the doors for him like Stiles was a sweet princess to be wooed before bringing him home and fucking him senseless over the kitchen counter. It was all so magical and surreal. 

The only cloud on the horizon was that they never took the time or maybe just didn’t want to go into the details of where they lived or why they were here living in vacation studios by the beach all summer.

They had talked. They had talked a lot in between kisses and in between the sheets. Some talks about their families, and some about the pressure sometimes to be something they weren’t deep down. Just a need to let go of things for a while.   
The one topic they didn’t touch even with a ten foot pole was where they were going when summer was over. Stiles didn’t want to break the magical illusion of this fucking hot dream he was living. He didn’t dare ask if Derek lived in Los Angeles or if he had some big career to return to, didn’t ask anything about the real life of Derek Hale.

It was a summer fling. Stiles had always wondered what it would feel to live one of those. He had never even imagined he actually would live anything remotely like this, so he wasn't really prepared. No, he wasn't really prepared to say goodbye to Derek when summer was finally over and he was supposed to move into his dorm room the week before September started. 

He wasn't prepared but Stiles was a practical guy in all aspects. He knew what to expect here. A summer fling, sure it felt good, amazing and all the good adjectives. Sure, he probably would always compare his future partners to how out of this world sex with Derek was, how fucking good it felt to nuzzle his nose in the crook of Derek's neck when they went to the movie to cool down during that scolding hot Wednesday afternoon when the air conditioner had broken down in Derek's rental.

Yes, Stiles was a practical guy. It was a summer fling, hence it coming to an end was expected. They didn’t promise anything, they didn't give each other any contact information because there was no use in dragging this along when it was just a summer fling. Stiles wasn't one to break a promise so he wasn't going to promise anything when all of it was bound to crash and burn.

Better end it on a high. And what a fucking high that was.   
They kissed and fucked on every damn surface in Derek's place, in Stiles' place, on the beach too that one time against the pole of the pier with people walking above them. Stiles had never guessed this was a kink he would be into but, ah... _Glorious._

Then it was time. Derek just let him walk away. Stiles hopped in his jeep and pointedly didn't look back. 

Stiles pointedly didn't spend the entire week before school started admiring the nice little crescent bruises Derek's hands had left on his skin. He pointedly didn't spend one too many hours thinking about the taste of Derek's salty skin or his intoxicating coconut sunscreen smell. 

Stiles was prepared to rock this college thing. 

He pointedly didn't miss Derek at all. 

Until right now.

  
  
*-*-*

  
Stiles tried to make sense of everything as he took a free seat at a table a few sections away from Derek, and fuck really, that was his luck. He had never even imagined he would be seeing Derek again in his whole life. He had accepted the fact that the only place he would ever meet Derek again would be in his fantasies. It was fine.

Again, Stiles told himself summer romances were bound to fizzle away. His thing with Derek wasn’t meant to lose its edge, it was meant to stay as pure (and as dirty) as it had been in Santa Monica. It was meant to stay as bright and cheerful as the neon of the Pier attractions, as golden as the sunset on the ocean waves.   
Fuck. Stiles was slightly smitten. 

Now Derek was here looking very serious and very focused. Taking notes even. The only times Stiles has seen Derek with a pen in hand was when they had gone on a couple of official dates. Derek had insisted on paying and had signed the bill. These were the only times. Stiles had never seen Derek write anything and now he was scribbling down pages after pages. It was still the first week of school. Stiles hadn't even had a chance to go to all his classes yet. How on Earth had Derek found so much homework to do already?

Stiles really couldn’t focus on anything. He had some self evaluations to write for one of his professors (college was no joke) but all he could do was stare at Derek’s perfect hair and perfect scruff, perfect leather jacket tossed over the back of the chair on which he was sitting. Perfectly Derek and yet so out of reach. 

They couldn’t go back to what they had had this summer. Stiles wasn’t naive enough to believe they could or would. Derek seemed happy enough to just ignore his whole existence. The problem was that Stiles wasn’t like that. He couldn’t pretend, not when they had gone so far. Stiles could still picture Derek absolutely naked in the water while staring at the gloomy man sitting at the dark oak table of the school library. He had to reconcile the two images in his head or he had to figure out which one was the real Derek. 

Stiles just stared. He didn’t know for how long. Time had stopped or something like that. He was just left in a haze and watched the glide of pen on paper and the slight movements of Derek's head as he wrote.  
When Derek started closing his book and putting his things away in his messenger bag, Stiles hurried to do the same. He followed Derek out of the library.

He took in a sharp breath, hoping for some courage before reaching out for Derek’s shoulder. 

“Hey, Derek!”

“What do you want?” Derek snapped.

  
Shit, alright, so Stiles had just broken the unspoken summer fuck rule apparently. He should have listened that other part of his brain, the one telling him to just go on with his life. It wasn't like he had expected to ever be able to speak with Derek ever again. He should have just -

  
“Hey, Der, who’s this?” A curly blond guy wearing a very similar leather jacket to Derek's walked over to them in the hallway. He was holding a reusable mug from the dining hall, smoking, filled with hot coffee, in each hand and handed one to Derek.

“Nobody,” Derek replied, taking the mug somewhat abruptly.

Stiles stared at them both, mouth agape. _Alright_. Stiles thought again. It wasn't a great ego boost but it had the advantage of clearing things up very quickly, if not very comfortably. He ignored the feeling in the pit of his stomach because, well, if he wanted to keep the memory of his summer fling all bright and happy, this scene in the dark corner of the library hallway wasn't the perfect ingredient to add to the recipe.

  
He'd better get going. Stiles straightened his back, readjusted the strap of his backpack over his shoulder. Yup, composure, Stiles was a very composed guy. He would just finish his day like nothing ever happened, and would just go to bed with the newly found knowledge that Derek was a bit of an asshole.   
He shouldn't even be surprised. Summer fling illusion aside, a guy as hot as Derek couldn't be a sweet ball of sunshine.

*-*-*  


Of course Stiles' college experience had to be tarnished by a certain Derek Hale. Also because Stiles had insisted on taking a 300 level class when he was just a freshman. He did it against his better judgement and the advice of his advisor, whose job was to, you know, advise students so maybe he did know a thing or two about classes and maybe Stiles should have listened to him.

It was too late though, Stiles still had the time to drop out and take something else but he had bought all the books as soon as the syllabus had been posted online and these weren't cheap. He also had too much pride to go back to the bookstore and ask to exchange them when the girl at the check out counter had been so impressed with Stiles. He didn't want to start his college experience being that guy, the one who drops out of too hard classes, or the one who just runs away when faced with an obstacle.

Whatever that obstacle might be.

Stiles had nothing to be ashamed of, he just fucked a guy over the summer. It wasn't as if that was out of the ordinary for young men out and proud roaming Santa Monica and Venice Beach. That was to the norm. Stiles was just a normal guy comfortable with his sexuality. Nothing wrong with that.

He sighed dramatically and went to sit down at the only chair with a right arm tablet available. Because he was so damn lucky, it was next to Derek who apparently was into poetry too. Who would have thought?  
His nemesis feeling toward the guy wasn't going to come in the way of his learning, especially not for the hardest class he had this semester. No way Stiles was going to go sit on a lefty chair just to avoid him. Comfort as a means of better learning was a real thing. 

He watched as Derek messed around on his phone waiting for their professor to come start the class. He was definitely not acknowledging Stiles' existence. Once again.   
It was fine, Stiles had every intention of doing exactly the same. 

Professor Finstock went over the course syllabus. Honestly that class didn't sound specifically hard per se, but just really specific to that one branch of literature. Stiles would be able to make it work no problem. He metaphorically patted himself on the back. His advisor could suck it.

He just hoped he'd have it in him to not be disappointed that Derek was still not looking at him. Not even a single glance. Not even when Stiles' book fell off his tablet and Derek leaned down to pick it up and put it back in its place. 

Stiles muttered a "thanks" and kept his tiny rabbit heart in check. 

It was just so awkward because when Professor Finstock stopped talking for even just a minute, Stiles' mind would go back to Derek's golden naked body spread out under his fingertips. If anyone was a mind reader in the room, he was pretty sure his thoughts were loud enough to be heard through the whole campus.

Fuck. Derek was just so beautiful when he smiled. Stiles was only human, a weak human who couldn't possibly be asked to handle Derek's beauty. He was too focused trying to keep his body from reacting to his very dirty thoughts that he didn't even register Finstock finishing his monologue and letting them go five minutes early.

"Stiles. _Move."_ Derek said, forcing him to startle out of his thoughts.

Stiles' eyes opened wide and realized Finstock was standing just in front of him, trying to get to the door.

"Ah crap. Sorry." Stiles scrambled to his feet, knocking himself on Derek's chest on his way out of the chair. Derek's hands found his hips to steady him and keeping him there? Wait, no that wasn't right, they hated each other now.

Finstock passed them with a "See you next class."

And now Stiles was alone there, still pressed up against Derek like he belonged there. His body felt like it belonged there.

"I-" Stiles trailed off, watching Derek from under his eyelashes. "I'm sorry."

"It's fine." Derek frowned.

"No I mean, for everything? I guess?" Stiles took a step back to retrieve his backpack still on the ground. Derek's hands slipped from his skin as he moved. Stiles really didn't want to be so aware of that. "Because I get it. It's not like I'm thrilled. I mean... college experiences."

"What are you talking about?"

"I mean, us. _Shit._ I mean, what we had. Oh God. Whatever that was." Stiles stumbled over so many wrong things to say. He didn't want to make it sound like they had a thing. They had nothing but a summer feeling of some sort. 

  
Derek shrugged. “And?”

"Let's just ignore each other!" Stiles blurted out. "Rest assured that I'm not hoping to reignite the fire. I didn't come here for-" 

He licked his lips because yeah that fire had been quite tasty and his body wouldn't say no to any reigniting right now. Stiles categorically refused to follow that train of thoughts though. His brain could go to hell.

_“What?”_ Derek raised his magnificent eyebrows and fixed Stiles with a daring stare.

“I- I-,” Stiles stuttered. 

He licked his lips again, eyes darting to Derek's mouth because even as an asshole Stiles still wanted to ravish him with kisses. All of it was just so confusing.

"Just do your freshman thing." Derek said as he moved past Stiles and walked out of the room.

What did that even mean? What Freshman thing? Stiles didn't even know any freshman things yet, except freshman fifteen? Sure, the dining hall did have a lot of good food that Stiles would very much like to indulge in, Taco Tuesday and special brunches on the weekends and so many different pizzas. He had deprived himself a lot watching his dad's diet over the years and he was here to live his college food experience right. He might even go for a Freshman thirty. That was how Stiles planned on doing his freshman things.  
Derek could go fuck himself.

*-*-*  


“Yeats already? It’s not on the syllabus for another couple of weeks.”

Stiles' head twitched recognizing the voice right away. He was just sitting outside in the grass, leaning against one of the trees. Stiles was planning on living his college life to the fullest, like in the movies. Hummingbirds flying around the bright orange bird of paradise flowers planted around the fountain. He hadn't expected anyone to come disrupt his weekend tranquility. 

He took his sweet time to look up from the book he was reading, making a point of finishing that one poem. "Yeah. Gotta keep on top of things you know."

“You like poetry?” Derek asked, sitting down next to Stiles. Just so close. That tree trunk wasn't meant for two enemies sitting next to each other. It was a tree trunk meant for lovers.

“That's why I took the class yeah.” Stiles said.

It came out sharper than Stiles intended but he wasn't going to apologize for it. He shrugged immediately, waving a dismissive hand. Was he supposed to enjoy making stupid small talks about his class choices with Derek anyway? Did he have to endure that? Were they supposed to chit-chat now?

They were sitting there in the ever warming sun of California, the light flowing through the branches and the leaves, casting soft shadows across Derek's face, dancing over his cheekbones. God, he was truly beautiful.

"Don't you have another _nobody_ to bother?"

Derek looked uncomfortable all of a sudden. “About that. I just didn't want to go into details with Isaac there,” Derek admitted with a sigh. "He's my roommate since freshman year. He can be a little territorial."

"Oh, a BFF kind of deal, then?" Stiles wanted to get snarky but he couldn't help but genuinely ask the question.

He didn't want to care either way but Stiles had eyes. His eyes had told him that Isaac was very handsome and his gaydar had told him that although he wasn't one hundred percent sure Isaac was gay, Isaac gave off bending vibes like he would surf the wave of sexual encounters, and Stiles knew for a fact that Derek was a very nice sex wave to surf. 

"Something like that yeah."

“Look, it's fine. You don't want your cool gang to know you hooked up with a freshman or something. It's fine. I told you we can just pretend... it was just for the summer.” Stiles told him softly.

“If that's what you want,” Derek said, tone unreadable, face unreadable. All of it unreadable. Stiles wanted to punch something.

“Well…” Stiles hesitated a second, pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes at Derek. He tried to study the man in front of him but couldn't seem to get the right answer out of him. He scratched the back of his neck nervously. "Yeah." He breathed out finally.

Derek shrugged nonchalantly in response.

"It's not like it was anything,” Stiles muttered. 

Something in him turned rancid. It left him with a queasy feeling in his gut. Derek didn't answer. Why would he? It wasn’t as if Derek could contradict that statement. Stiles swallowed around the dry lump in his throat. He closed the book still in his hands with more force than necessary and leapt to his feet.

"Right. So let's just forget about it. Forget everything." Stiles would really like to believe that was even remotely possible.

*-*-*

It was all bad, very very bad. It was all so aggravating and unnerving. Stiles couldn't let it go, couldn't shrug it off, couldn't forget a damn thing.

Derek had managed to sneak into his soul and made a tiny space for himself there. Except the space wasn’t all that tiny. It was instead pretty big and took a lot of space. It took a lot of time and Stiles' attention span seemed to inevitably circle back to the thought of Derek in between white cotton sheets. 

If anything, Stiles couldn't let go of his body memory of Derek. He kept having all these vivid dreams, every fucking night. He knew, he had known Derek had ruined sex for him forever. That wasn’t the surprise here. But he couldn’t shake the flashes of Derek smiling, Derek cracking a joke out of the blue making Stiles double over in surprise laughter.

He just couldn’t shake it off. Couldn’t let go of something so fucking good. Because his summer fling just wasn’t a memory. Derek Hale wasn’t in the past. He was still out there ruining Stiles’ life by simply existing. Stiles' life was being ruined on a daily basis and even more on Tuesdays and Thursdays at 10 AM when he had to sit next to Derek the ruiner of all lives Hale.

Stiles would really like to be able to focus in Poetry class but it was becoming increasingly difficult. Such a perilous affair. He was completely losing it with Derek right there next to him.

They didn’t speak. No, that had been established. They glanced at each other instead. At least Stiles did. He did also catch Derek looking at him a few times but that could be because Stiles couldn’t help but fidget, shake his leg or tap his pen on his book or drum his fingers on the tablet. Stiles was a fidgety student in all classes but even more so in Poetry class. The 300 level and Professor Finstock’s passionate renditions were not doing anything to keep Stiles’ mind from wandering to his right where Derek was sitting.   
Wait, did it smell like coconut today? Shit, that was just a trick of Stiles’ sick brain.

Stiles almost had a heart attack the day Derek stood up and read his commentary of the Pablo Neruda's poem he had studied. That day had ruined everything. For all of Finstock’s renditions were passionate, they weren’t moving. They weren’t felt, they didn’t transcend Stiles, didn't turn him into a pile of gooey nonsense. Finstock didn’t rattle Stiles’ whole being with his words. But Derek... Derek did. Stiles was just a small ball of yearning at the mercy of the words leaving Derek’s mouth. Stiles was gone, everything had left this earth. He wasn’t flesh and blood anymore, he was just heart.

For a split second Stiles had seen Derek again. As in, his Derek, the soft one, the sweet one, the passionate one. Shit, he was still his Derek. Stiles would never be okay again.

*-*-*

Stiles found a small folded note crumpled in his backpack when he came back from class. It was Derek's Pablo Neruda poem, it was in what Stiles guessed was his handwriting and had all the annotations on it. Some words scribbled on there, your mouth, your skin, your... Uhhhh no, Stiles couldn’t read that. Living through the class had already been too much to bear. Stiles' skin was on fire now. Just thinking about Derek's mind. 

There was no freshman thing to do or have, all Stiles wanted was Derek. Every day. Every night. For always. Oh crap. 

There was something about Derek. He was stupidly hot, yeah. The sex had clearly been mind altering. But there was something more, a tiny twisty feeling somewhere hidden in Stiles' chest. Something a summer fling wasn't supposed to leave behind.

Scott, Stiles' roommate, walked in. "Oh no." He sighed. "Having a Derek freak out again?"

"Shut up." Stiles scoffed, with a fake innocent look on his face. "I don't even know what you're talking about."

"Drunken confessions are here to bound us for life." Scott said, plopping down on Stiles' bed. "What did that jerk do, now?"

Stiles shrugged, letting out a loud sigh. It wasn't like Derek was doing anything on purpose to ruin Stiles' life. Stiles' life was ruined, period. Derek didn't even have the power to change that for the worse at this point. It was already at its worst. 

"You know, that guy has a reputation. He just fucks and dumps, that's how that crowd rolls. " Scott supplied. "Don't take it personally, but he's out of your league."

Stiles snorted. "Thanks for that, Scotty. It's pretty personal if it's my league he's out of but you know... I get what you mean. There's no point in pining. I'll let you know that I am in fact not pining at all. I had him, it's a done deal. I had him. _Past tense._ "

"Well, now, you have me instead." Scott grinned. "Although, please, keep it in your pants. I know I'm a catch, dude. I wouldn't blame you if you developed a big crush on your roommate but I'm taken. My heart belongs to Allison, and only Allison."

"What!? I’m offended. You wouldn’t even go for a pity make out session with your sad roommate? Such a disappointment." Stiles chuckled, shaking his head.

Scott was wonderful. He was a little bit of a dumb jock, here on a Lacrosse scholarship more than any academic prowess. Stiles hadn't even guessed Lacrosse was that important but Scott was living proof of it, although he was more on the bench than on the field for now. He was nice and loyal and lowkey obsessed with his girlfriend. Nobody could be exactly perfect so Stiles forgave his small defaults.   
Scott accepted to let Stiles rant about a very specific older guy, and Stiles accepted to let him wax bad poetry about Allison's smile. It was all good between them.

That was at least one freshman thing Stiles could check off the list of freshman things. He had found his best friend.

*-*-*

It was Scott who had been invited, Stiles had followed suit without really knowing where they were going. A party, that was all he knew. Allison had been invited, she had invited Scott who had invited Stiles. It was like a big game of dominoes in which Stiles would be the first to crash and burn.

Living a life of crappy bad luck, he had no other choice but to sigh upon discovering that the party was at no other than Derek and his roommate Isaac's place. They had a suite, shared with a couple of other students. The two bedrooms were separated by some sort of living room space where they thought it'd be cool to cram about thirty people and call it a party.  
That had to be a fire hazard, definitely not allowed in the living agreement they had signed moving in but apparently that was a thing college kids enjoyed? Stiles wasn't sure what he was supposed to feel about all of it. The party in itself was passable, third-wheeling Scott and Allison that could be tolerable, being in Derek's living space... that might be a little tricky.

Booze, though, booze was nice and they had plenty.

He made his way to the table where the alcohol was set up next to the mini fridge.

Stiles crouched down to find some soda in the fridge, nudging the door shut with his foot as he got back up. He wasn’t here to mess around. He was here to get drunk and not think. Definitely not think about the green eyes and the specks of brown at the center of said green eyes. Stiles had spent so many time studying them over the summer. He could draw them from memory if he had any artistic bone in his body. He would paint murals in the colors of Derek's eyes.

Luckily Stiles couldn’t draw to save his life.

"Sorry, dude." Scott came to stand close to him. "Had no idea, it was at this douche's place."

"Have you seen him?" Stiles couldn’t help but ask.

He didn't want to look around. He didn’t want to look like he was here on purpose, like he was seeking Derek out. He wasn’t. If anything Stiles wanted to avoid him.

He wanted to forget everything he had ever felt, forget his heart was even in his chest if that was possible. Maybe he would rip it out of his rib cage and leave it here next to the rum and vodka bottles for Derek to find at a later time. A time when Stiles wouldn’t be there to see his heart get crushed and stomped on. Stiles just didn’t want to have to ever look at it. 

God. He was in a weird mood.

"Nope.” Scott said. “But I'll tell you what, we're going to get shitfaced and then if he's here I bet you fifty bucks that you guys end up making out on the couch at some point tonight. You know how alcohol lower inhibitions. It could work in your favor."

Stiles snorted. "Right. Since when do you have fifty bucks laying around? You already owe me twenty for that time you I quote _craved sushi_ at midnight."

"When sushi calls, you pick up the phone. That’s a law in the constitution of the United States!” Scott exclaimed. “And maybe I was betting against you and hoped you'd end up giving me thirty because you hadn’t made your move on the guy." He added with a shrug, grinning like a lunatic.

Stiles let out a loud burst of laughter. Scott was just the right amount of stupid. 

His laughter died though when he caught sight of Derek from the corner of his eye. He was in a crowd of four or five people. Stiles breathed a little easier when he realized Derek didn't seem to have noticed him or had decided to ignore him again.

"Yeah let's just say you don't owe me anything anymore and we're good. All in the name of the constitution. I don't feel like trying anything with that guy tonight or any night. But, let's be clear, I'm not giving you any money either. Let's just say the sushi was my treat, and let it go." Stiles said, patting Scott's shoulder. “Now let's get shitfaced.”

*-*-*

Amazing how everyone seemed to find that tiny space to be enough for dancing and drinking. Scott and Allison were rubbing against each other in the name of dancing to the beat. They weren’t fooling anyone. It could have been embarrassing if they hadn't been one couple in many in the small room all doing the exact same thing. It all looked like a big foreplay of some sort. 

Stiles was nursing his first rum and coke, sitting against the arm of the couch, very happy being invisible. He should have just gone back to his dorm. He couldn’t even explain why he hadn’t left already. He wasn’t even drinking. The music wasn’t even that great. Seriously who had made the playlist?

Without anyone against whom to rub himself, this felt just like a big waste of time. This party wouldn’t go down as the best one in history. Stiles had gone to some fabulous parties in high school. His friend Lydia had a true gift for event planning. There were balloons, great parties required balloons.

This one party was pale in comparison.

The only thing this party had that the others lacked was a very handsome Derek Hale standing not too far away. Yes, Stiles was still pining. Pining wasn’t something easily turned off. There was no on and off switch in his brain. That would have been too easy. The only thing he seemed to have in his brain was that big red button with the "do not press" sign just above it, and Stiles clearly had gone and foolishly pressed it because everything was an explosion of emotions.

He was cursed and obligated to feel all these things and sadly watch the object of his unattainable affections, hopefully avoiding being a total creeper while doing so.

Derek was talking with Isaac in the doorway of one of the bedrooms. Stiles was openly staring, he would like to blame it on the alcohol but he only had had a couple of sips.

Derek caught him staring, of course. Stiles wasn’t even trying to be discreet. So yes, being a creeper it was.

Derek leaned closer to Isaac and whispered something before stepping aside. Aside and toward Stiles and then he was sitting, actually sitting right next to him. What the hell?

“Have you started to study for midterms?” Derek asked in that very neutral tone of his. The one Stiles had started to believe was actually Derek’s natural tone of voice. It almost erased the warmth Stiles remembered from all the sweet nothings Derek had murmured to him this summer. Almost but not quite. Stiles’ feelings were sticky little things. 

“Wha-?” Stiles asked with a grimace.

“Midterms?” Derek repeated dumbly.

_Midterms?_ Was this guy for real? As if that was what Stiles, or anyone else for that matter, wanted to talk about at a party. He wouldn't want that with anyone, he definitely didn't want that with Derek. The whole thing was just a big no. No thank you.

Stiles wanted to snort so he did. “It’s still a few weeks away.”

“Right.” Derek said, rubbing a hand to the back of his neck awkwardly.

He didn’t move away. If anything he was moving closer, until his knee bumped against Stiles’, their legs pressed against one another. Stiles could feel the skin of his thigh tingling under the thin material of his pants. Yet another reminder that his body would never let him forget about Derek.  
Then again, Derek didn’t seem inclined on letting Stiles forget about him either. Nothing made sense anymore.

“Derek…” Stiles frowned, shaking his head. 

Derek’s bright eyes were fixed on him. Stiles didn’t have the focus to figure out what it all meant. The music was too loud, the people too noisy, and Derek just too fucking close. Stiles had hoped to convince himself that he had his emotions in check, hoped to be sure of himself, know for a fact that there was nothing to be confused about, he was just a single guy. He wanted all of that to be certain, except right now, pressed against Derek, feeling so seen under his knowing gaze, nothing felt certain. He felt owned. Or more like he wanted to be. He wanted to be Derek’s. Derek’s fling but more than that. He wanted to be Derek’s boyf- oh no, Stiles couldn't go there. It was all too much. 

Derek wasn’t even drunk. Stiles had seen Derek tipsy this summer, he had seen him relax and let loose. Stiles had seen him laughing, had seen him sleeping, he had seen him open for Stiles to do what he pleased. 

“Should we find somewhere private to talk?” Derek said in Stiles' ear.

He did it only to be heard over the noise, Stiles assured himself, nothing worth all the shivers running down his spine.

Derek stood up, offered Stiles his hand to help him up.

Stiles could’ve stopped this nonsense right now. He should have. It was important to protect his heart after all, but what could he even fight when all he wanted to do was kiss Derek senseless? Reignite the fire, yeah, he totally lied when he said he wasn't here for that. He hadn't come to college for that, but he was here, Derek was here and even if he knew in his rational brain that summer flings weren't something that should ever continue past the actual summer, the irrational part of his heart clenched feeling Derek's fingers intertwined with his and pulling him up and against him.

If they were to find some private bleachers somewhere around the football field, Stiles would very much like to live some teenage high school fantasy that he never actually got to live while in high school. Just the thought of having Derek again was too much. Stiles' stomach made an unpleasant flip, unpleasant but in the best way.

Stiles was absolutely screwed. He couldn't even fool himself anymore.

*-*-*

When Derek had said somewhere more private, he actually only meant the common room down the hall which was almost empty at the moment. It was a little more private than the suite filled to the rim with people, but it wasn’t anything romantic.

Not like that one time they had decided on playing tourists on the pier. They had gone to get dinner at Bubba Bump’s for one of their real dates. Shrimps and beer were definitely better than Netflix and chill, no question about it. College things couldn’t compare. They had gone to the attractions, gotten some ridiculously colored drinks and had walked under the stars and bright flickering lights. Stiles’ mind lost in the haze of too loud noise and laughter, only focused in the feeling of his hand in Derek’s.  
Derek had kissed him with his mouth full of cotton candy grinning like the sweet idiot he had been this summer. Stiles hadn’t even imagined a guy as ridiculously sappy could even exist out there in the world.

He could still see this man in the eyes of the one looking right through him at this very moment. Stiles wanted to kiss just as sweetly as he had that day.

  
He went to put his drink down on the table in the corner, turned back, leaning against the edge of it, just staring at Derek. 

"What do you want, Der?" Stiles dared ask. It came out weak and slightly wavery. 

Derek slowly made his way closer, so close he stood almost in between Stiles' legs, exactly like he had so many times this summer. Stiles' heart jumped at the familiarity of it.   
It was just muscle memory that made Stiles grab him by the back of the neck to pull him closer. He stopped himself though, just before the fateful press of their lips.

Derek took his a sharp breath, eyes dropping to Stiles' mouth.

"I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair." Derek murmured, fingers brushing at the soft hair just above Stiles' ear.

"Yeah, Pablo, what are you gonna do about it?" Stiles huffed out.

He bit his lip so hard he was sure it came out red, Derek's eyes followed the movement. God, what was he waiting for?

They weren't even alone in the common room and more people could very well be on their way. Hell, the RA could be coming to shut the party down any minute. None of that mattered at the moment. All Stiles wanted was for Derek to kiss him, kiss him like he had at the beach, kiss him and fuck him like he had this summer.   
Stiles could never forget how it felt to have Derek's body pressed up against him.

Sadly, summer doesn't last forever. They weren’t two strangers on the beach. 

"You've got a reputation, Derek Hale." Stiles continued, seeing that Derek hadn’t made a move to swallow Stiles’ doubts with his mouth.

"Yeah." Derek breathed out with a frown.

"And what's that reputation exactly? You don't fuck around with freshmen, or you don't fuck around with guys maybe? Although I may have some proof that you in fact do..." 

Derek snorted, and smiled that same fond little twitchy blink and you'll miss it smile that Stiles wanted to paint on a canvas and hang up in all the most prestigious art galleries. That smile was more precious than any Mona Lisa could ever get.

"The reputation is purely fabricated." Derek admitted.

"Is that so?" Stiles' eyebrows shot up. "So you're not a total asshole who fucks and dumps?"

"Fabricated." Derek repeated with mocking frown. "I only plead guilty to the asshole part."

So many different emotions to read on such a pretty face. 

"How does one go about fabricating such a thing?" Stiles asked.

He couldn't really let it go. The asshole way Derek had welcomed him in the library that first day had to have a meaning somehow. He couldn't really forget that, even if it wasn't the memory at the forefront of his brain right now when Derek’s lips were right there, and Derek’s hips were so close that Stiles would only need to move an inch to feel the outline of what was hidden in these tight jeans.

"My ex girlfriend was..." Derek shrugged dismissively.

"A stalker?" Stiles supplied, with a lopsided grin. He tilted his head just enough for Derek's attention to be brought to his neck. He was a little smug that this still worked.

"Something like that." Derek swallowed visibly before adding, "And I'm sorry."

"Oh, an apology already?" Stiles smirked, he wasn't here to see this constipated expression on Derek's face.

Clearly there was something there, Stiles would need to dig into if they ever were going to go somewhere together but not right now. Not when they weren’t an item, weren’t going anywhere. They were just a summer fling and would stay that way until one of them made any real move to change that reality. Stiles wasn't going to be the one to make the first move. If Derek wanted something he had to make it clear himself. He had to come and get it. He was the one with the reputation after all, he was the one who was a figure in this school. Stiles was just a nobody, right? 

"Are you telling me that I don't actually need to get a nice make-over movie montage to get me up to your incredibly high standards?" Stiles joked. Though, he had to admit he wouldn't have said no to a cool leather jacket.

Derek turned away with a smile, all Stiles could see was the crinkles at the corner of his eye. Was Derek Hale shy? God, Stiles wanted to kiss these little crinkles.

"Your plaids are fine." Derek mumbled, almost a whisper. "And I happen to know exactly what you hide under all these layers." He added with a pointed look.

Stiles was burning up, breathless. He knew exactly what Derek was hiding behind all his high walls. There was sunshine in there and Stiles wanted to bask in it.

  
Scott stumbled in the common room, drunk, carried by a very sober Allison. Derek took a step back automatically at the interruption.

"Stiles, thank god, you didn't leave!" Allison called him. "Can you help me carry this idiot back to your room?"

"Sure." Stiles was already moving past Derek. Their eyes met for a split second, the magic of the moment was broken. It was all back to Derek being closed off with that big frown on his face. 

Oh hell. That guy was a piece of work. 

  
*-*-*  


"How about my thirty bucks?" Scott was sprawled on his bed, sporting some nice hangover.

"Go fuck yourself." Stiles laughed from where he was at his desk working on some paper he had forgotten was due this week.

"Ow, dude, keep it down, will you? I was drunk but I wasn't blind last night." Scott continued. "I’m just looking out for you. Aren't you worried about his bad boy leather reputation?"

"Leather reputation?" Stiles snorted. "It sounds a little BDSM when you put it like that. I didn't know you had that kind of fetish."

"Shut up. I love you." Scott whined, burying his face in his pillow.

Stiles just smiled, shaking his head. His roommate was ridiculous.

“I don’t like him.” Scott mumbled.

"You don't know him." Stiles shrugged. Jeez, was Stiles now defending Derek’s character? He really was whipped.

"Then make me know him." Scott said, daring. 

Stiles turned to glare at his friend but then thought better of it. He thought about the possibility of getting away with murdering his roommate by suffocating with his pillow before deciding that it was not worth it.

"You know what, I might take you up on that." Stiles closed his laptop a little too violently and sprung up his chair. "I have something very urgent to take care of, don't wait up!"

  
*-*-*

Stiles ran to Derek's dorm, Pablo Neruda's words resonating through him because yeah, Stiles might have learned that piece of crumpled paper by heart in his free time. Just because it was Derek's. No Stiles was not a crazy stalker, he was just a little bit in love. Fine, okay, he said it. He was going to say it.

He wanted to stop forcing the idea that this fling couldn't turn into more if they both were willing to give it a shot. Shit, Stiles was willing to give it a shot.

Dating Derek wouldn't be so bad. It wouldn't be terrible. It would not necessarily break Stiles' heart and leave him miserable. Maybe summer would last forever. 

Stiles flailed to a stop getting around the corner of Derek's dorm hall. He needed composure, he needed to make sure he didn't look like a lunatic. He needed -

"Stiles?" 

"I want you to Pablo me!" Stiles blurted out. "Ah crap." He cringed at his lack of filter.

When their eyes met finally, Derek’s demeanor shifted. He frowned. "Everything's alright?"

"I'm not a creeper. I swear I didn't enroll here to stalk you." Stiles tried to be coherent.

Derek laughed, actually laughed, cute little front teeth on full display. That was a rare sight since the summer. Stiles felt chills all over at the sound.

"What?" He said, a little outraged. "I could have!"

"Sure. I don't doubt that." Derek told him, the smile not leaving his face.

Stiles just stared at him for a minute. God, Derek Hale. Was Stiles actually putting himself out there? This could just end so terribly, horribly, heartbreakingly badly.

"Do I need to recite a poem? Or, like, sing a song? You're the one that I want and all that?" Stiles asked earnestly.

He was ready to do it. He would burst into a cheesy corny song to sweep Derek off his feet if that was what it took. He would. Stiles swore he would. He was absolutely gone on Derek. Even more than during the summer. He was gone on the new Derek too. All of Derek made him feel like he would burst out of his skin with everything he was feeling. No point trying to hide it or conceal it. Better let the whole campus know it right now. Someone please bring Stiles a megaphone, he had a song to sing.

"Am I?" Derek asked, throwing Stiles a little off guard.

"What?"

"The one that you want?" He precised.

"Isn't it obvious?" Stiles almost shouted in the empty hallway, throwing his hands up in the air. 

Derek didn't answer. So maybe he hadn’t been that obvious. Was Stiles such a good actor? He had barely been able to convince himself, had he actually been able to convince Derek?

"You walked away." Derek said after a moment. “At the end of the summer. It was just done.”

Stiles narrowed his eyes. "That's how summer flings go. It all ends when summer ends. We say goodbye."

"I didn't say anything." Derek replied carefully.

"You -" Stiles stopped himself. 

Was this a joke? He didn’t want to make a fool out of himself by making the wrong affirmation here.

Now that he thought about it, Derek hadn't officially said goodbye that day. Yet nothing about him made it seem like anything was still open. Derek hadn’t stopped him, hadn’t run after him to keep Stiles from hopping in his Jeep. That was just what movies were made of, not Stiles' life. He had hoped but he hadn’t expected it to happen. Keeping his expectations practical was the only thing that saved him from being disappointed when nothing actually happened in the end.   
Plus, Derek had literally said Stiles was nobody. That was a word that came out of Derek’s mouth. Stiles hadn’t imagined it. It still stung a little bit.

Derek took a step forward. "I didn't think I would see you again, and when I did, I...” Derek sighed deeply. “It wasn't on you. I’m sorry."

Stiles took a minute to gather his thoughts before speaking. It seemed that Derek could read him perfectly.

"It's true though that you don't date. You’re a hot guy who can have anyone he wants. You don’t date." Stiles swallowed with difficulty. 

The thought of Derek being with anyone else was just a knife through the chest but he somehow felt it had to be a clear visual image. He was backtracking himself, so close to having everything he ever wanted. So close. He could barely believe it. That wasn't what Stiles' life was, he didn't get things. He only lost them. He needed to be prepared for the worst.

"I don't. Not anymore." Derek admitted, pressing his lips together in a tight line.

Stiles nodded. That settled it then. He needed to keep his heart from imploding. He could feel his pulse travel through him, ringing in his ears. Stiles should go. He wasn’t here to be a random fuck. It would feel good on instant but -

"But I would." Derek added, his expression turning soft but serious.

He was shy again, Stiles realized. Shit, Derek being shy, that did something to Stiles' insides. He wanted to hold his hand and tell him everything would be alright, make him believe all the good things in the world could be his, whatever what these good things might be, all of them should be Derek's.

"You." Derek said, whisper quiet. "Only you."

"Me?!" Stiles asked. It came out a little strangled, a little more desperate than Stiles would have liked. But shit, he wanted this so bad. “Wait. Wait! Because this is important information that I’m gathering here. You would? You mean you would take me out on dates? You would kiss me? Like full on make-out while we’re on a blanket on the grass outside on the campus lawn. Not like, hidden in my room asking my roommate to leave and never speak of it? You would date me as in be my -"

Stiles just couldn’t say the word boyfriend. It felt like it would mean even more than that. It would mean what all the poems were made of. Stiles would write all the poems about Derek’s eyes and his smile if he was ever so lucky to be able to call him his. 

"Yes.” Derek replied without a ounce of hesitation in his voice. “We dated this summer. That’s what I mean. That’s what I want. You and me, exactly like that. So yes, I'd... How did you put it? I'd _Pablo_ you." Derek said, the corners of his lips twitching.

"Shut up. Oh, shut up!” Stiles exclaimed, a wide grin on his face.

Derek wrapped an arm around Stiles' waist and pulled him closer. Stiles didn't waste a second and brought their lips together. They had wasted so much time just tiptoeing around this inevitable truth. He wasn't trying to be graceful, entranced by the fact that he was finally getting his hands on Derek's chest again, feeling the beat of Derek's heart against his palm. He might even come to strip him out of his shirt in the near future to feel him even closer. Who knew? Maybe Stiles would be that lucky. He definitely felt luck on his side at this very moment.

Derek slipped his tongue in Stiles’ mouth, his fingers digging into Stiles' shoulder blades pulling him even closer if that was possible. Stiles could barely breathe, crushed against Derek’s chest, but mostly from the feeling of it all. 

Derek's fingers caressed up Stiles' neck and then were tunneling through Stiles' hair, tugging just hard enough to make Stiles shiver with a moan. So clever and all too knowing of how to get him dizzy. 

Stiles sighed, smiling against Derek's mouth. Oh, he missed this, missed it a ton. 

Derek's hands letting go of their grip on his hair, he cupped Stiles' jaw, keeping him there, clearly not ready to let this kiss end yet. Stiles wasn't complaining. Derek's tongue ran along Stiles’ bottom lip. He bit down softly, possessive, making Stiles shiver again, groan a little too.

"I got chills, they're multiplying." Derek breathed out, unable to keep a serious face as he said it.

"Oh my God!” Stiles’ eyes opened wide. Almost as wide as the open grin splitting his face in two. “You are a dork. I knew it! I fucking knew it!"

“Because the power you're supplying, it's electrifying...” Derek murmured, barely a breath away from Stiles' lips.

"Oh God. No. Stop. Shut up. Just kiss me, you idiot." Stiles said punctuating with tiny little kisses over Derek's face, before capturing his lips again himself. 

*-*-*

The sky was beginning to change to a nice shade of pink as the sun started to lower over the ocean.   
The place was as crowded as anyone would expect for an early summer evening in Santa Monica. The beach was still covered with people and their beach umbrellas, kids running in and out of the water.

Derek was walking fast, pulling Stiles by the hand, striding along the pier and down to the sand. Stiles was grinning for no reason other than being there right now. The blood rushing through him was enough to block out the chaos around them. All the noise from the attractions, from the people talking too loudly, the seagulls squawking overhead in the setting sunlight. Nothing mattered but the feeling of Derek’s fingers laced with his.

Stiles' mouth still felt sticky from cotton candy and slick from kisses. The best taste in the world. 

They quickly took off their shoes and left them there in the sand before making their way down to the water a little way off the pier. The water was never at its best near the pier, that was a thing they had learned last summer.

In a quick practiced motion, Derek pulled Stiles flush against his chest.

"Happy one year." He murmured softly, barely audible with the sound of the waves and everything else going on.

"What are you talking about?" Stiles asked but he still beamed like Derek made all the sense in the world.

He was just high on happiness and sugar. All of it.   
Derek had rented the exact same apartment by the beach. They were living a summer love 2.0 only it was about a thousand times better because they were together and nothing was supposed to end. There was no dreaded last to cloud the horizon.

"Since we're together." Derek smiled, crinkles on the corners of his eyes. 

The sunshine was coming solely from Derek and not anywhere else. Stiles could swear it was all just science. Derek was in fact the sunshine when he smiled. 

"We got together in October." Stiles narrowed his eyes, though he was still smiling. He was just an idiot in love, he couldn't hold it in. That too was science.

Derek hummed in what could be agreement but his face just told a different story. 

"Sure we did." Derek leaned down to close the distance between them, kissing Stiles sweetly.

"We did!" Stiles countered, his body leaning into the kiss absolutely ruining his defense. He weakly pushed Derek's chest away. 

"Happy one year." Derek said again, with an infuriating twitch of the eyebrows.

"Wait, is today a memorable day?" Stiles felt his interest piqued. "What did we do last year on this very particular day? I don't seem to remember the specifics, maybe I was fucked out of my mind. Was I? I mean the whole summer is a little hazy. Though, correct me if I'm wrong, but I didn't put out, like, right away, I mean, it did take a couple of days at least."

"How prude of you." Derek deadpanned.

"Are you not going to tell me? You can't just spring something like 'happy one year' on me and not explain yourself. You know very well that's not how it works!" Stiles said exaggerating his seriousness slightly, all for the good cause of getting the answer he wanted.

Derek shrugged. "I can't tell you the day for sure, but it's the week we met. One year of having you in my life."

 _"Romantic."_ Stiles pulled his lips in to stop himself from mocking.

It really was sweet, and Derek was a real big sap underneath the bad boy leather jacket look, the sweetest of sweet hearts.  
Derek rolled his eyes fondly. 

"Worth celebrating." Derek said against his mouth before kissing him again.

Stiles grinned, leaning back a second, studying Derek's bright eyes, before being pulled back in for another kiss and then another. 

"Celebrating, huh? Better shape up."


End file.
